All Night Long
by for-the-love-of-adonis
Summary: "Are you hitting on me, Axel?" Roxas asked with feigned innocence. He placed his free hand over his chest as if utterly scandalized. He earned a lopsided grin in return. "That depends. Is it working?" Oneshot. Fluff. AU. Axel works at a bowling and arcade place. Roxas needs something to do on a Saturday night.


**Warning: **Sexual themes (not explicit, mostly innuendo), strong language, general lime

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing.

**A/N**: I promised myself I would not start another story until I finished Pedestrian. Buuut, here we are. And here this is. I went to a new bowling and arcade place in my area and got inspired. Whoops.

* * *

Roxas wandered into the building to the chorus of thunderous cracking sounds, the beat of thumping music, a sea of nondescript voices, and various automated tunes and tones ringing in the air. As he stepped up behind a party of several people laughing and talking over each other as they debated over bowling, no—laser tag, no—arcade games, and so on, he couldn't help but roll his eyes. Briefly considering turning on his heels and walking out, Roxas pulled out his wallet and all but sandwiched his face in it, checking to make sure his _broke ass_ actually had the _funds_ to even be standing there. Since his friends had all apparently had such a great, fucking _blissful_ time there without him last weekend (while he was at home sick with a nasty cold, no less), he decided he might as well check the place out and see what all the fuss was about. That, and he had not-a-single-fucking-thing-to-do on a Saturday night and he'd be damned if he was going to let it stay that way.

As the group of people in front of him finally moved away, still chattering riotously, Roxas stepped up to the counter, finally stopping himself from nearly huffing the last of his cash as some sort of weird parting ritual with the last of his paycheck. That's when he pulled his eyes up, meeting the reddest hair he'd ever seen in his 17 years of life. I mean, good lord. It wasn't like the auburn or ginger color that you associate with the term 'redhead'. No, it was pure, unadulterated firetruck red. Roxas wondered briefly how much the guy must spend on hair products. He'd probably gone through enough hair gel and red hair dye to put a down payment on a house, I mean, the shit he used to put up those spikes defied gravity. That's gotta be expensive.

Roxas's eyes flitted to the name tag perched on the corner of his black fitted shirt, skirting over the text that read "Hi my name is _Axel", _his name scrawled in tall, sprawling red letters. Axel, huh. That's an unusual name.

The teen quirked a lopsided smirk. "Hey baby, how can I help you?"

Roxas pursed his lips. "Just a game card, thanks."

"Ah. Not gonna play with any of our balls today, then, eh? Not even gonna roll them around a little?" His voice was low, a mixture of disappointment and delight.

Roxas raised an eyebrow, a smile threatening to pull at his lips. "How long have you been sitting on that one?"

"Just about since I started working here."

Roxas laughed then shook his head. "Nah, I'm not much of a bowler."

"Suit yourself, pancakes."

The teen, identified now as Axel, let out a low humming noise, touching the screen in front of him in long, lazy strokes. He looked up, and Roxas's vision was eclipsed with poison green eyes. They sparkled as he drew his lips up to speak.

"You want it all night long?"

Roxas blinked. "_Excuse me_?"

Axel let out a short laugh. "Our new promotional deal—all night long. For ten bucks extra, you can play as many games as you want until closing at 2:00 AM."

"Oh." Roxas clicked his tongue against his teeth. He didn't really want to kiss the _whole_ rest of his paycheck goodbye. As he mulled over the loss of a couple bucks for what was probably the course of several minutes, he realized that Axel's eyes were still trained resolutely on him.

Axel leaned slightly over the counter, resting his elbows on the counter. He tilted his head, amusement twinkling in his eyes. "Tell you what, short stuff. I'll cover the ten, out of pocket."

Roxas wrinkled his nose. "You'd do that?"

"Sure thing, buttercup. So, what name should I put the card under?"

"Roxas. And thanks."

"You got it, Roxas." He pressed a couple of short commands onto the screen, then reached a hand over the counter, holding a green and red colored card out. He winked. "Go nuts."

Roxas smiled briefly as he took the card and pocketed it. He handed over a five in return, silently admiring his luck. He was ninety five percent sure that the redhead was _totally_ hitting on him, but, hey, with ten bucks still in his pocket, he wasn't about to complain. If he had a pretty face, he might as well let it reap its rewards. Lord knows it was about time he start racking up some perks in life.

As he turned to leave, he paused briefly to eye the bowling lanes. A particularly loud squeal erupted and his eyes zeroed in on the source. Lo and behold—the group that had been previously in front of him. A redheaded girl with a short skirt and legs for miles was clapping wildly, her eyes chinking with laughter. Meanwhile, a guy with brown hair jumped in the air, fist first, whooping loudly. A silverette teen nearby stood up, proceeded to pat the brunette on the back, then leaned in to speak into his ear. The brunette grinned, shoving him away playfully toward the bowling lane.

Roxas shook his head. So the fuck what if he was there alone? He was going to have a good ass time by himself. Screw his fair-weather friends. It wasn't like he needed anybody else to have a good time. He wandered over to the arcade area, bright blinking colored lights assaulting his vision. He squinted, his eyes adjusting to the sensory overload, barely dodging the small children that all but ran under his legs. He puffed his cheeks, blowing out a concentrated breath that jostled his hair and tickled his forehead. He was starting to miss his five bucks.

He scanned the array of arcade games at his disposal, his eyes flitting between the different options. That's when something caught his eye. Skee-ball. He was pretty good at that, right? I mean, it'd been like 6 or 7 years since he'd last played, but come on, how hard could it really be? He knelt down, swiping his card and picked up one of the solid pink spheres. He wound up his hand, squinted, and threw the first one, aiming for the 500 slot. Instead, the ball half-rolled, half-flew across the room clattering against the cage about three lanes over. He winced at the noise. Roxas quickly attempted to covertly look off in the other direction, whistling quietly in the hopes that no one had noticed his fuck up. Okay, maybe he wasn't as good at this as he remembered.

"No, see, the goal is to roll the ball _into_ the holes."

Roxas nearly jumped out of his skin, startling at the voice coming from _right _behind his right shoulder. What the _fuck. _He reeled around, ready to share some very _choice_ words with the speaker, when his eyes met some very dangerously red locks and a familiar mischievous grin.

Roxas narrowed his eyes. Still recovering from the near _heart attack_ delivered to him near seconds ago, he didn't bother to hide the annoyance in his voice. "Shut up. And aren't you supposed to be working over at the front counter?"

"Nah, Xigbar—that's my boss—doesn't really believe in designated jobs. He says we should just try to get the _feel _of where we're needed and see to it. One of the perks of working here, I guess."

"Are you saying you _got the feel_ that I need you right now?" He placed a hand on his hip, laying on the sass a mile thick.

"With whatever the hell that was?" He gestured noncommittally towards the game in front of them. "Yeah, I'd say so."

Roxas tutted, jutting his finger towards Axel's chest. "I'd like to see _you_ try it, then, Mr. Superiority Complex."

Axel laid on a Cheshire grin, stepping up to the machine calmly. He picked up a pink ball and with a flick of the wrist sent it tumbling down the curved alley, but not before turning and offering Roxas a wink. Roxas stared as the ball sunk easily into the 1000 points spot in the corner. Dammit. He thought that spot was fucking impossible, put there to trick kids into sailing all their throws in that direction, only to have them roll down, down, down the rabbit hole in front of the zero mark. He huffed. Apparently not.

"How in the hell—"

"Don't worry, tiger, I'll show you how it's done." He said, ruffling Roxas's hair. He leaned down, leaving Roxas in a sort of drunken-like stupor as he watched Axel ever so slowly lean down. Jesus, could those jeans fit him _any _tighter? I mean, _Christ_. Axel retreated with another ball in hand, depositing it into Roxas's. "Proceed as normal."

Roxas raised an eyebrow. Well, alright. He'd show Axel. He could get 1000 points just as easily. That first throw was just him getting warmed up, that's all. With that in mind, Roxas proceeded to confidently wind his arm up and squint his eyes, his tongue poking out in concentration. He was about to sail the ball home when Axel so rudely interrupted, placing a warm hand on Roxas's arm and holding it hostage.

"Whoa whoa whoa. Hold it there, blondie. It's not a baseball." He paused to laugh. "You're gonna knock someone's damn eye out. And I don't know if I'd feel right with myself—having the hots for someone who gave some poor 5 year old kid a black eye."

"Are you _hitting_ on me, Axel?" Roxas asked with feigned innocence. He placed his free hand over his chest as if utterly scandalized.

He earned a lopsided grin in return. "That depends. Is it working?"

Roxas merely turned towards the game again. His competitive side was flaring and he was ready to wipe that smirk clean off the redhead's face. "Just show me how to score already."

"Oh, I can do that." Another wicked grin.

"On the _game_."

"Right, sure. That too, kid. That too. Okay, resume position."

Roxas tried adjusting his posture, standing up straight and pulling his legs together. He felt very poised—kind of like a butler serving the first course of a meal. Only instead he was going to be serving up some serious skills. He was not about to face the embarrassment of a repeat of his last performance.

"Loosen up, doll."

Roxas, caught off guard by the remark, immediately slumped, letting his arms exhibit a jelly-like state, swinging by his sides. The distinct sound of Axel's resonant laugh came in response. The only odd thing was— it was coming from _directly_ behind him. Warm air tickled against the back of his neck. Roxas felt an involuntary shiver rack his body before he could stop it.

"No, see, you gotta relax, otherwise the ball won't follow through smoothly." Roxas could feel Axel's mouth form each word, slow and deliberate. The vibrations danced against his skin.

A vague smile crossed Roxas's lips. He remained wordless, however, a little entranced by the redhead's heat-radiating proximity. He tried to loosen his muscles, leaning slightly backwards into Axel's hips. In vain, he strained to focus on the objective at hand, to imagine the course of the ball careening down the alley, but honestly, his mind had been completely hijacked, hypnotized by the heat he could feel emanating from the body behind him. He could feel a dull ache pulsating through his fingers, a phantom pain that screamed for him to reach out and touch, touch, _touch_.

"Okay, now, here, square your hips and widen your stance a little." And without another word, Axel was kneeling down and placing a hand between Roxas's inner thighs, prodding until he deemed Roxas's legs to be an acceptable distance apart. Roxas's mouth parted involuntarily at the contact. As he slid up, he placed his hands on Roxas's hips, turning them forward and squaring them to run parallel to the platform in front of him. "Train your eyes on the target, sweet pea."

A warm hand settled gently on top of Roxas's. Something fluttered in Roxas's chest at the contact. The dull ache surged throughout the rest of his body, the intensity escalating. _God._ He could still feel the faint ghost of the hand between his legs. What was he supposed to be doing again? Oh yeah. The game. Not Axel. Got it.

"Ready? One…" He guided their hands backwards once. The slight rocking motion, paired with Axel's hips still pressed against his own, caused something to stir in Roxas's lower half. "Two…" Again, and Roxas's mouth went dry. "Three!" The two simultaneously pulled their arms back and then released the ball. Roxas didn't even have the time to watch the ball land in the goal before he was being whirled around by strong hands and pulled flush against Axel's chest. Dazedly, he looked into hard, twinkling eyes, clouded with something that Roxas couldn't quite place. A beat. Axel leaned in. Roxas's mind moved on autopilot, his own lips moving to meld with Axel's, his feet moving to balance on tip-toes, craning up into searing heat.

Roxas's eyes widened in alarm, remembering where they were. The next second Roxas's hand was shooting up, pressing against Axel's sternum and pushing once, _hard_. He kept a firm hold on the fabric of Axel's shirt, anchoring him inches in front of Roxas's face.

"You know, I don't know if I'd feel _right_ having the _hots for someone_ who would start getting all hot and heavy in front of some five year old kid." He tilted his head, slightly amused, waiting for Axel's inevitable opposition.

Instead, Axel raised a red eyebrow. Roxas wondered briefly if he dyed those too. Immediately Axel's eyes brightened, his hand lacing with Roxas's, pulling him impatiently towards the laser tag area. Stepping past the line of antsy kids, he pulled Roxas toward a second door, marked "Employees Only". Wow, he was just getting all kinds of perks today. Axel reached deftly into his back pocket, swiping a key card before pulling Roxas in and pinning him against the first available wall.

Roxas inhaled the smoky scent of artificial fog and could hear the brief tinkling sound of children laughing and squealing filtering through the wall that he was now pressed fervently up against.

Axel connected their lips again. Axel ran his tongue along Roxas's lower lip, a wordless request for entrance. Roxas shuddered, his hand finding startlingly soft red spikes as he moved to part his lips open. Maybe his hair _wasn't_ the result of twenty different artificial hair products. Huh. Who would've thought. As Axel's mouth found Roxas's neck, Roxas gasped, his mind rendered blank. All thoughts of hair dye and expenses were out the window. The only thing on Roxas's mind was searing heat and mounting pressure. The dull ache back in his fingers, he fisted the black fabric of Axel's shirt into his hand. He could feel Axel smiling against his neck and he reeled back slightly, confused. He was met with, through the hazy dark, sparkling jade eyes.

"I get off at 2:00," he breathed. Something about the way Axel spoke the words made Roxas's insides turn to liquid heat.

It was Roxas's turn to smirk. "Looks to me like you're getting off right now."

Axel, still panting, looked away briefly, fighting the amusement off his face at Roxas's comment. His eyes returned with a sober gaze. "Will you stay? 'Til my shift is over and we can get out of here?"

Roxas grinned, pulling Axel back down. The words were a hot murmur between their lips. "I'll stay all night long."

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**A/N**: I hope the title didn't lead any citrus-centrics on too much (I'd be mad too). But the lime was enough, right? Anyway! If you're reading this, have a nice day! And night (all night long). Zing. Sorry.


End file.
